


the (after) life of the party

by brendonurie



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Drugs, Intoxication, M/M, possible dub con because of intoxication, speaking of which
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:58:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2426270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brendonurie/pseuds/brendonurie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I love you. It came quietly, but I heard it. I didn’t know if you meant me to, but you probably didn’t know either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the (after) life of the party

**Author's Note:**

> would recommend listening to the song this is named after and based on, The (After) Life of the Party by Fall Out Boy.

You were always better than me at this part. Socializing, talking, laughing, slurring your words so charmingly. People loved you, and by extension they loved us. It was amazing to watch.

You’d swoop in, already a little buzzed, the faintest shade of pink dusting your cheeks. You’d loop your arm around the shoulders of someone you knew, someone who wanted to know you, anyone. It didn’t matter. You’d end up in someone’s lap, end up braiding someone’s hair, telling the story of the time your niece got gum in hers. They flocked to you. I would stand back, let you have it. Watch you work the room. It was easy.

You’d search for stories at the bottoms of bottles and you always found them.

Eventually, I’d lose sight of you. I never worried; Jon always did. Every so often, I’d hear your voice from another room, spinning a story, laughing, singing. God, you never got tired of singing. You’d spent around two hours a night singing for people, and somehow you were always happy to belt a tune. Meanwhile, I was standing in a corner with a few close associates, sometimes Spencer. I was fine with it.

The few times you did coke it scared me. Trust me, the irony is not lost. I was scared watching you shake, watching your pupils blow and never settle. I wondered if I shouldn’t have cut you loose. But you always came back, so I tried not to think about it.

Coincidentally, one of the times you did coke was one of the better after-parties. Even I was relaxing into it. You were gone in your usual amount of time. Spencer disappeared too; Jon and I sat in an empty bedroom drinking out of a bottle we snagged from the kitchen. We talked about the house and the strange people that were in it. Someone from the opener came in and found us, talking quickly about drugs, so we followed him out. We found you, eventually, and you were high. You clambered onto me, talking about how you just wanted to go to bed. _Just take me to bed, please Ryan, I’m so tired. I just want to lie down._ I took you back to the empty bedroom; you were already unbuttoning your shirt in preparation.

You flopped down onto the bed, squirming around to get comfortable. I stood in the doorway, just watching you, making sure you had whatever you needed. After a good minute of squirming, you looked over at me and asked me to come lie down with you. I sat back, propped up on the pillows, hands clasped over my middle. You laid flat on your stomach facing me.

_I love you._ It came quietly, but I heard it. I didn’t know if you meant me to, but you probably didn’t know either. I looked at you, your eyes were open but they didn’t seem to be looking at anything. Then your hand trailed up, separated mine, and held on to one. Your knuckles turned white.

Suddenly, you shot up, propping yourself up on your free arm. You looked right at me and said it again. _I love you._ No mistaking it that time. You quickly crawled over and kissed me. You kissed me well, despite your intoxication. I could taste the sweetness of rum on your tongue and I couldn’t bring myself to stop you. You held on to my hand like if you let go I might leave. It was probably one of the more romantic things we’d done, made out and held hands.

You moved down and latched onto my neck, creating a purplish bruise that I’d have to explain but not justify. I ran my free hand along your bare back, feeling your muscles tense as you moved on top of me. I felt the tiny highs and lows of your spine. Finally, my hand came to rest over your heart, beating hard and quick. You must have felt it too, amplified by the presence of my palm, because you pulled away from my neck to look at me. Your eyes fluttered quickly to and from each of my features, then focused on my lips. We stayed frozen like that for a good thirty seconds. I listened to you breathing, slow but deep, over and over. You slowly, slowly, slowly moved forward again and kissed me. Full, soft, mouth open but not beckoning, not demanding. We kissed like that, over and over. Then you squeezed my hand. We made eye contact. You looked sad. Sad and scared, maybe. You kept blinking, maybe trying to blink something back. I moved my hand up to the back of your neck and pulled you in for another kiss. It was long. Just lips to lips, we stayed like that.

Soon, I heard Jon coming down the hallway, announcing that he’d check the bedroom. I gently pushed you back, and you rolled off of me, back to your place on the bed. Our hands stayed connected, even when Jon slowly, quietly opened the door. When I told Jon I’d be out in a second, I looked back at you and you were still looking at me with those big, terrified eyes. I don’t know if it was the coke or not. Jon closed the door behind himself.

I leant down to kiss your forehead. While I was there, I whispered _I love you too_ for only you to hear.

 

 

It was moments like those that reminded me that no matter how much you belonged to the people, the party, the drugs, at the end of the night you always belonged to me.


End file.
